Ianto Jones is unimpressed;part 1, part 2;Jack Harkness, Fem!Ianto Jones;PG-Rated; Coda “Almost Perfect”; 500words;I'm sure somebody was asking for angst, can I blame this on them?<33

He remembers one of his first days as a woman all too well. He remembers being woken up by the alarm and not wanting to get up. He remembers eventually forcing himself to get up and into the shower, to wash and to dry, only to crawl back under the duvet moments later, curling in on himself and trying desperately hard not to cry as the full realisation of his predicament washed over him once more.

Then Jack had arrived, and though he hadn’t been able to make it all better, he had managed to help Ianto feel not quite as alien as he had been since he’d woken up the previous day with a pair of breasts and a depressing lack of cock. Jack had managed to get him out of bed, dressed and to work in relatively one piece at least. He’d managed to keep him going when days and weeks threatened to turn into forever trapped in a body not his own; a body too perfect, a body that resented him and which he loathed with just as much passion.

And then they’d found the device and things were to be set right and with hours left to spare Ianto finally embraced the idea of a female body enough to allow Jack a long nights worth of blissful exploration, content in the knowledge that once they woke up late the next morning he’d be safe in his own skin once again.

And then the alarm went off.

With a groan, Ianto reached out towards the radio, hand slapping at the buttons on the top in order to stop the insistent beeping. Beside him, Jack groaned at the intrusive noise and rolled into Ianto, plastering himself up against his back and sliding an arm over his waist- fingers spreading out inquisitively and freezing in touch at the exact moment Ianto let out a soft gasp of shock.

Before Jack could so much as blink, Ianto was out of bed and in the bathroom- door slamming shut behind him and a soft, muffled cry sounding a second later. Jack threw the covers aside and hurried over, knuckles rapping on the door as he called out Ianto’s name.

“It didn’t work!” Ianto’s cry sounded, high-pitched and evidently distressed as he no-doubt examined himself in the bathroom mirror.

“Ianto?” Jack tried the handle, unsurprised to find it locked. “Ianto, come on, open the door,”

The door clicked open and Ianto stepped into view, his body distinctly feminine in shape and Jack couldn’t prevent his eyes from roaming across Ianto’s curves before flickering to his tear-stained face. He held out his arms and Ianto fell into them without hesitation, clinging to him and allowing Jack to hold him tight.